


north star

by lovebrd



Series: paper hearts [2]
Category: Fire Emblem: Fuukasetsugetsu | Fire Emblem: Three Houses
Genre: Angst with a Happy Ending, Hallucinations, Implied/Referenced Torture, M/M, Mental Health Issues, Mutual Pining, Spoilers for Post-Timeskip | War Phase (Fire Emblem: Three Houses), there's a dog here too
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-11
Updated: 2020-01-11
Packaged: 2021-02-27 08:28:15
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 16,422
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22204099
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lovebrd/pseuds/lovebrd
Summary: “Dimitri?”“Yes, Ashe?”“Why did you wait so long to tell me how you felt?”They have had this conversation before, several times actually. The answer has always been the same. The answer will always be the same.
Relationships: Dimitri Alexandre Blaiddyd/Ashe Duran | Ashe Ubert
Series: paper hearts [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1589236
Comments: 9
Kudos: 110





	north star

**Author's Note:**

> Highly recommend that you read [this](https://archiveofourown.org/works/21673906) before proceeding or have read before it as there's a lot of references to it within this.

Dimitri no longer walks as tall as he once did, with his head high and chest out. There is no longer need of him to do so. He is no longer the cherished crown prince of Faerghus, beloved by his people. That boy died in Duscur, his remains set aflame two years ago in the holy tomb. The man seen walking down a dark and deserted alleyway is no prince but a mere charred corpse: reanimated and forced to live among the living. 

Dimitri does not belong with the living, not anymore. While his heart may beat and his lungs may breathe, he is not a living man, not anymore. It is among the dead where he has found his place. It is the dead who speak to him when he finds himself alone in the dark, murmuring in the shadows to remind him why he still walks on this earth. 

He can hear them now as he struggles to take each step. He can hear them as he crumbles to the ground, bloody and broken.  _ “You’re not finished here,” _ they tell him in hushed tones, pulling him from the ground and sending him on his way. And while his feet are aching and his back is breaking, he will continue to bear the weight that the dead have placed upon his shoulders. 

While he isn’t a living man, he cannot allow himself to die; not when there is still work to be done, not when  _ that woman  _ still stands with her head upright. So he will live this pathetic half life for as long as he needs to, lurking in the shadows like the sewer rat that he is until it is time to strike. 

Or until he, too, falls under the heavy hand of the empire. 

He collapses again as he enters the alleyway, knees buckling against his own will. He had overexerted himself on the journey here from Arianrhod. Frankly, it's a feat within itself that he’d managed to make it past the stronghold itself given that he’s suffering from several stab wounds, including one to his eye. Not that it was an easy thing to achieve. The journey has been perhaps the most difficult one he’d ever done. He very well could have died as he struggled to travel the small distance that realistically shouldn’t have taken longer than a day. It’s been three days now; three days he’s been without food, water or any sort of medical treatment. 

So as one might expect he’s in pretty bad shape. 

Had it not been for his resilience and unfailing strength of will, Dimitri’s certain he never would have made it past the gates of Arianrhod. Though truthfully, he wonders how much longer that will get him. But he can’t let himself die, not when there’s so much he still has yet to do; if he dies now everything he’s worked for will be for nothing, if he dies now his father will have no one left to avenge him, if he dies now Dedue will have died for nothing. 

So he trudges onward. 

His entire body aches and screams at him with each haggard step he takes. His eye...well his eye is little more than a bloodied pulp at present. His vision through it is inconsistent at best and nonexistent at worst. He’s gone too long without treatment for him to have any hope for it to return to how it used to be. It’s fine. An eye is inconsequential to his goal in the long run. Nothing matters anymore except taking back what’s been taken from him. Once justice is delivered, he need not his eye nor any other part of him. He can at last die in peace and go on to live with the ghosts that whisper to him in the dark.

He has very little conscious of his surroundings when he finally collapses. This is due to both his severely limited vision and his extreme focus on moving forward. He wouldn’t even be aware of the time of day, had the sun not set a few hours prior. So when he crashes down into the earth, he hasn’t the faintest idea where he could possibly be.

Not until he hears church bells ringing several hours later. 

Dimitri can’t recall the last time he’s been inside a church, probably sometime after the monastery fell. He’d never been particularly religious even before everything so he doesn’t see the need to enter one and risk the possibility of being discovered by the empire. Though he’s not entirely opposed to entering one if just for some peace and quiet. Perhaps if she is feeling generous, the goddess may grant him the kindness of a reprieve from the constant voices circling in his head.

He’s only vaguely aware that it’s raining when he opens his eyes. His overgrown hair lays damp on his sunken face. He’s also just barely aware that he’s lying in a graveyard, mostly due to the fact that he’s quite literally sleeping at the foot of someone’s tombstone. He’s not immune to the irony of it, sleeping beside the dead. But in the state he’s been in the past two years, he has little care for things such as irony. So he will allow himself to lie in the dirt like the worm that he is until he has enough energy to carry onward. 

That is until he hears the sound of soft footsteps in the distance. 

Despite his extreme levels of exhaustion, he is instantly alert to the rest of his surroundings. Well, as alert as he can manage with a great deal of his vision fragmented. He quickly rises to his feet  — or he attempts to, anyway. He nearly collapses once more from the exertion it takes to move so quickly. The strangers approaching him must have witnessed this blunder, for the footsteps immediately grow faster. Mixed frustration and panic floods his body as he attempts to retrieve his lance. He’d had it with him when he’d fallen, hadn’t he? He can’t see it anywhere  — then again he can see very little at present. 

He’s starting to get desperate as the footsteps hastily get closer. He can’t die here. He doesn’t even know where here is. He feverishly moves to pick up something, anything that can be used as a weapon. His hands brush against something hard and smooth and he swiftly lifts it off the ground before he can give himself the time to question anything. He holds the mysterious object threateningly up in the air, daring whoever approaches to even think of striking him and see what happens. 

The footsteps abruptly stop. For a moment all is silent save for the light sound of raindrops falling from the sky. 

Then there’s a scream. 

The voice sounds ever so slightly familiar, like an echo of a memory that’s been long buried deep in the back of his mind. It sounds fairly youthful, perhaps belonging to a child or a young teenage boy. It’s accompanied by the voice of a girl he doesn’t recognize. 

“Oh my goddess!”

“Hawthorn, have you ever seen this guy before?” 

“Of course not! Don’t you think I’d recognize him!?”

“Well I don’t  _ know, _ his face is kinda disfigured right now. You know, all bloody and bruised up?”

“I don’t need you being cheeky with me right now! What are we gonna do!? Should we tell someone?” 

“Tell who!?” 

“I don’t know! Someone! We can’t just-- AH!” 

The boy very suddenly stops speaking as Dimitri at this point has figured out where the pair are by their voices, and has moved to hastily tighten his free hand onto the boy’s collar before lifting him about an inch off the ground. There’s a frightened gasp as small hands try to frantically pry Dimitri off to no avail. 

At his side, the girl yells. “Let him go!”

“I cannot allow any word of this to get out,” Dimitri’s words are little more than a low grunt, his hands beginning to shake as his limited vision focuses on the boy in his grasp. He can just barely make out strands of silvery hair framing a pale freckled face. His grip slackens, his brows rising on his forehead as he whispers, “ _ Ashe? _ ”

Suddenly, there’s a small but powerful fist slamming against his jaw. Had he been in a more healthy state, Dimitri likely would not have been affected. However, in his current condition, the punch knocks him straight to the ground with a thud. 

“Willow!? Why’d you do that!?”

“He was gonna hurt you! I had to do something!”

“What are we gonna do!? Should we just leave him here?”

Dimitri slowly shuts his eyes as his exhaustion takes over his body once more. It’s not an ideal situation but perhaps it’s better this way. Even now, after he’s succumbed to his dark tendencies, he’d rather not harm the innocent ( especially children ) if he can avoid it. His cause does not require needless bloodshed. Only the blood of the wicked does he wish to shed. So he will allow himself to sleep, these children’s intentions with him be damned. He never does hear what the two children plan to do with him as he’s already fallen back into a familiar state of unconsciousness.

* * *

When he wakes up the second time, he’s in a dimly lit room with a pale freckled face hanging over him. Dimitri’s hair has been tied up and out of his eyes since he was last conscious. Therefore, he can now more easily see the features of the boy he’d accosted previously. 

This isn’t saying much as his right eye is still not producing much vision for him, even less now than it had been in the graveyard. 

Dimitri understands now why’d he initially mistook the boy for Ashe. From his memory of the latter, Ashe had the same soft looking face, the same shaggy gray hair and the same kind looking eyes. Only, this boy’s eyes were a warm shade of brown, somewhat resembling milk chocolate. Said eyes widen as the boy notices Dimitri’s slight groan. 

“Oh, you’re awake,” he says in a much more relaxed tone than earlier. The boy twists around to shout, “Willow, he’s awake!” 

The girl, Willow, comes rushing forward. This is the first time Dimitri has been able to view her properly. He sees her eyes first, a piercing yet familiar shade of green framed by dark curly hair. 

“Good! Now we can question him properly,” she says, leaning over Dimitri’s face, uncomfortably close as her face quickly twists into a scowl. She meets the elder’s gaze. “Now, what the hell were you doing in the graveyard?”

“Willow! You’re not supposed to curse!” hisses the boy at her side.

“Feathers isn’t here right now so I can say whatever I want.” 

The boy gives Willow an unimpressed frown. “So I guess you don’t mind if I tell him what you said when he writes back.”

“You wouldn’t dare.” 

“I think you know I would.”

“Ugh, this is just like you! You’re such a snitch!”

“If you didn’t act out I wouldn’t need to be!” 

“Well if you—”

“ _ Silence _ .”

The children’s squabbling immediately halts as Dimitri speaks, his tone commanding and threatening. While he no longer sees himself as royal, his words have all the authority and power that befits a man born into royalty. 

He makes an attempt to sit up on what he assumes is some kind of cot. However, he is unable to move very much, as he finds that his arms and chest have been restrained by strong chains. So it would seem at last the monster has at last been chained and conquered...by mere children no less. 

“What is the meaning of this?” Dimitri growls, feverishly trying to break free of the chains binding him. His body feels limp and weak, like he is no longer in control of it. 

Unbidden, an image of a jail cell flashes in his mind’s eye. Chains stronger than these ones, stronger than anything he’d ever seen before tying him down in any way they could. It’s dark, so dark. These days he can’t remember much of his imprisonment. He only remembers the darkness, the fear, and the pain...so much pain. Pain like no other. With that in mind, the pain of his eye pales in comparison, especially considering that it has dulled slightly since he’s woken up. 

Dimitri wrestles harder against the chains, his heart pounding in his chest as sweat pours from his brow. The dark room disappears, and in its place an even darker jail cell emerges. He’s trembling now, desperate to free himself like some miserable caged animal. 

“Please...Please let me go. I’m telling you the truth,” his voice comes in desperate gasps, voice choked like his throat were chained as well. This is not the case however. The ties that bind him are not the physical chains wrapped around him now, but the memories of those who have chained him in the past. 

When Dimitri looks up the children are gone. Instead an older woman leers over him, snakelike cyan eyes glinting maliciously. Cornelia draws ever nearer, a ghostly hand reaching for the chains as she tightens them with a dark laugh. Dimitri cries out, wrestling desperately against his restraints. 

“P-- Please...make it stop. Just-- M-- Make it stop.” Tears fill his eyes as he cries out once more. But his torturer looking down at him shows no sign of mercy, no sign of compassion. She laughs again. 

And then a bucket of ice water is poured onto him. 

Dimitri stiffens, gasping for air as the freezing cold water drips down his face and neck. He blinks and Cornelia disappears, her strawberry blonde curls turning chocolate brown as Willow looks down at him fearfully, holding a wooden bucket. The boy at her side looks even more panicked, his pale face a sickly green. “Sir? Are you okay?” he asks, brows furrowed in mixed fear and concern. 

Dimitri blinks, finally able to sit up as it seems he’d somehow broken free of his chains. His eye widens upon meeting the boy’s gaze like it’s the first time he’s seen him. A small smile stretches across the fallen prince’s face, seemingly pleased by the other’s presence. “Ashe, y-- you saved me. How did you find me?”

“Ashe? Why-- ?” 

“Hawthorn, he’s not right in the head. You should finish up healing him.”

“Do you think it would help?” 

“I dunno. We can’t just keep talking to him like this.”

The boy, Hawthorn, nods before raising a hand over Dimitri’s body. This time, when magic is used on Dimitri, he feels no pain, just a comforting warmth along his whole body. Dimitri closes his eyes again and lets himself sleep once more. 

* * *

The eyepatch feels ill fitting as it’s strapped to his face, like someone else’s limb being attached to his body. Though there’s something comforting in it, perhaps due to the protective cover over his injured eye. Beside him, his adolescent healer holds out a glass of water. Dimitri feverishly takes it, quickly pouring the contents down his throat as elegantly as a wolf devours its prey. 

“You could’ve said you were thirsty earlier,” Hawthorn says with slight exasperation in his voice. Dimitri merely grunts in response. All in all, he’s hardly spoken a word to either the children since waking up a third time. Perhaps this should be a blessing, considering most times he’s spoken the children have responded with fear or anger. Dimitri wishes to do neither, so he’s chosen to stay quiet and only speak when necessary. 

“I can’t say for sure if you’ll be able to see through your right eye again,” Hawthorn continues, “...But your infection should be gone now.”

Dimitri grunts again.

Hawthorn starts to look a little frustrated. “For now you should just focus on resting.”

Another grunt.

“We still don’t know your name by the way,” Willow pipes up from the other side of the room. She makes a pointed expression as she looks up from the meal she’s been preparing for the last hour or so. 

“Willow…” her brother sighs, looking even more exasperated as he frowns in her direction. 

“What?” Willow replies haughtily as she throws her hands on her hips. She carelessly shoves the finished meal onto a plate before striding towards the pair of boys. “We nursed him back to health out of the kindness of our hearts. We’re not asking him to pay us or anything so I think we at least deserve to know his na--”

“Glenn,” Dimitri speaks for the first time in several hours, his voice quiet and tired. Both Willow and Hawthorn are stunned speechless for a moment, mostly due to the ready admittance of his identity-- Well,  _ what they think _ his identity is anyway. 

While Dimitri is hardly in a state for skillful tactics, he knows better than to give his actual name. No one is to be trusted anymore. There are spies and lookouts for the empire everywhere. Even if these children are trustworthy enough to not turn him in intentionally, there’s no telling who in this corner of Faerghus could rat him out. He cannot afford to take chances anymore. He must survive by any means necessary. 

“Glenn, huh? ...That’s a nice name,” Willow says after a brief moment of silence. She appears pacified now as she offers the plate of food to Dimitri. He clumsily takes the plate into both of his hands, muttering a small word of thanks before ravenously diving into his first meal in several days. 

“Maybe we should have given him food sooner…” Hawthorn mutters pensively, looking between his sister and the man tearing through the plate of meat and vegetables. 

Willow looks like she’s about to say something, when a violent gust of wind from the open window interrupts her. The source of the wind comes in the form of a small owl soaring in through the window before landing atop the girl’s shoulder. Willow’s expression immediately brightens as she gingerly takes the rolled up scroll held in the owl’s sharp talons. “Feathers wrote back!” 

Hawthorn appears delighted by this news as well, a smile appearing for the first time since Dimitri has been in his company. The pair of siblings move away from him, stepping into a quiet corner of the room to read the letter privately. Dimitri silently rises from the worn wooden chair he’d been sitting on before picking up his fallen cloak beside it and walking out towards the door. 

There’s a rustling sound and something falls from under the cape. Dimitri blinks, staring blankly at the fallen piece of paper before reaching to pick it up. In his obsessive focus on taking his revenge, he oftentimes forgets that he has personal belongings stowed with him. The same can’t be said for everything, but Dimitri doesn’t need to be reminded why he keeps this item in particular. Therefore he tucks it back under his cloak before exiting out the door. 

The children fail to notice Dimitri’s departure before it’s too late. The door slams shut under the force of a strong gust of wind, causing the pair to jump in surprise. Their eyes dart to the chair where Dimitri had been, then shift to the closed door shortly thereafter. 

“Should we go after him?” asks Willow quietly. 

Hawthorn slowly shakes his head, his contemplative gaze still lingering on the shut door on the other side of the room. “No...I don’t think we could help him more than we already have.”

“I hope he’s okay.”

“Yeah...me too.”

* * *

Dimitri is not one to have a conventional sleeping schedule. Not that he wouldn’t like to. As both a prince and student he has many responsibilities to attend to that could be easier done if he had a decent amount of sleep under his belt. However despite his best wishes and intentions he is unable to sleep on most nights. Though this isn’t something he can realistically control unfortunately. 

More often than not Dimitri’s nights are plagued with nightmares, the ghosts of his past ambushing him from the shadows and attacking him when he’s asleep and vulnerable. It’s been like that ever since he can remember and he doesn’t see it changing any time soon. His nights will be eclipsed in darkness for as long as he is and there’s nothing he can do about it. 

There’s a heaviness in Dimitri’s chest that he can’t quite describe, a darkness within him that he doesn’t want to acknowledge. It’s always been there, more or less, a burden he cannot be rid of no matter how much he tries. Oftentimes he wishes this were not the case, that he could be as carefree and peaceful as he makes himself out to be-- Perhaps even more so than he lets on. 

But in the end, he knows that it must be this way. Even if he could free himself from the demons that haunt his days and nights, he knows he cannot allow himself to do so. There is still work to be done while he still walks on this earth. As unbearable as the demons lurking behind him are, they remind him why he still is fortunate enough to live another day. So he will keep the monsters close under his bed until his goal has been met. 

Though lately, they’ve felt closer than ever before, almost like they’re waiting to see how soon they can feast upon him. Dimitri wonders it too. He wonders how long it will be before he’s eaten whole and spat back out as one of them. The day will soon be upon him, he thinks. 

The hour is late when a quiet knock at his door stirs Dimitri out of his train of thought. It is thereafter followed by a hesitant voice, muffled by the wall between them. 

“Um, Your Highness? I was wondering if I could have a word with you?” 

The prince easily recognizes the voice by the gentility and the underlying nervousness in the tone. There’s something soothing in it and once more Dimitri finds the beast inside him briefly pacified. 

He rises from his seat at the foot of his bed, a very small smile upon his face as he strides toward the door. Though said smile falters ever so slightly as he opens the door to see Ashe on the other side. There’s a sort of troubled look upon the archer’s features, the kind Dimitri would often see on his face when ceaselessly worrying over something. Wordlessly, Dimitri ushers the younger boy into his bedroom, quietly shutting the door behind him.

Dimitri returns to his spot at his bed, though now his eyes are focused on Ashe who’s quietly seated himself down at Dimitri’s desk chair two feet away. There’s a silence that stretches between them for a moment. Ashe fidgets in his seat, seemingly nervous to meet Dimitri’s gaze as he frowns at the floor. 

“I came by to ask--” 

“Is there something wrong--”

By sheer chance they manage to decide to break the silence at the exact same moment. They then proceed to simultaneously backtrack before apologizing in unison. Ashe lets out an awkward chuckle before clearing his throat. 

“I just wanted to check and see if you were alright. Back in the village you seemed...well, you seemed a bit off.”

Ah, Remire...of course. Why else would Ashe want to speak with him? Dimitri cannot blame him for coming to question him about it. Ashe has only known the perfect, pristine prince who is meant to be a role model for him and the rest of their class. It sets Ashe apart from the rest of them. All this time, Ashe has held him in such bright adoration that Dimitri often found it blinding. He’d never asked for him nor anyone to put him on a pedestal like that. Yet still there is an odd comfort in the constant that is Ashe’s sparkling eyes, night stars that seemed to never go out. 

Yet how dim they look now as he sits across from Dimitri, furrowed brows casting a shadow over his wide eyes. 

There’s nothing Dimitri can say that can excuse his behavior in the village. Nor is there anything he wants to say. He doesn’t want to pretend it didn’t happen: that it was simply a nonsensical outburst. As uncomfortable and shameful as that whole violent episode was, it reminded him of why he’s at the academy at all. Why he can’t let things such as sentimentality or love keep him from reaching his goal. Yet he still wants to have such things in his life. Therefore he wishes Ashe and everyone else hadn’t seen him like that. 

He straightens his back slightly, frowning as he too finds himself having trouble meeting Ashe’s eyes. He never likes disappointing those whom he cares for. That’s a large reason why he so insistently asks that his friends disregard his title when in his company. So much is expected of the heir to the throne. He never will be the perfect prince everyone seems to think he is. 

Yet, even so, he never wants anyone he cares about to see him for who he really is. He’s already lost someone important to him once for unleashing the savage monster that he cages within his chest. He doesn’t want to lose anyone else. He doesn’t want Ashe to look at him the way he is now ever again. 

“I must apologize for my behavior today. It must have been unnerving to see me like that.” 

“Well, if I’m being honest...Yes, it was,” Ashe looks strangely sheepish as he speaks, wringing his hands nervously in his lap. “I’ve never seen you like that before. It’s like you were a completely different person.”

Guilt twinges in the pit of Dimitri’s stomach. It’s moments like these that remind him why he so desperately tries to keep the darker parts of him locked up tight for no one to see. Every time he looks at Felix, he’s reminded of why he must keep such feelings at bay. When he frees the monsters inside his chest, he becomes swallowed whole by them, unrecognizable to anyone. For the monsters are him...aren’t they? That’s how it seems to be. That’s how Felix seems to think of him these days. 

“It does seem that way doesn’t it?” Dimitri’s tone is grim as he speaks, eyes rising from the floor to look at Ashe. Ashe still avoids his gaze, staring thoughtfully at his folded hands in his lap. Part of Dimitri wants to ask him not to. Even if Ashe’s eyes don’t light up the way they usually do, perhaps just having him look at Dimitri will make Dimitri feel like he’s less of a monster. He knows that Ashe would do so if asked, and yet he finds himself hesitating. Despite how desperate Dimitri is to have Ashe look at him, the prince would rather not have Ashe do so unless it’s of his own will. 

“For as long as I can remember, I’ve strived to keep feelings like that from breaching the surface,” Dimitri says evenly, eyes still searching for some kind of change in Ashe’s demeanor. “But despite my best efforts, there are times where I lose my self restraint and the darkness takes hold. Today was one of those times.” 

It’s not something he’s proud of. But it’s the way things must be until the flame within him, the flames of that Duscur day extinguish once and for all. 

“So what you’re saying is...” begins Ashe, seeming to be deep in thought as he lifts his head ever so slightly, still avoiding Dimitri’s gaze, “--there is a part of you that is always like that. Is that what I’m to understand?”

As always, Ashe is overwhelmingly observant. Dimitri wonders if he’s always been like that or if it’s something he had to learn over time. Yet, even with all that perceptiveness, Ashe has never presumed Dimitri to be anything other than what he appeared as; anything other than what he wants to be. Dimitri does not know how Ashe always seems to find light in him when he himself finds so little within all the darkness. He wishes he could see himself the way Ashe does. Maybe then he’d finally have some light within himself.

“Now that you put it that way...yes, I suppose there is.” There’s an air of disheartenment in his words. “It’s not something I am proud to admit about myself. I’m truly sorry that you had to see me like that. In the future I will strive to--”

“Dimitri,” Ashe’s tone is cool but with such a serious undertone that Dimitri is a little startled. The rare discarding of his title unnerves him slightly as well ( how ironic considering how often he pleas for the younger to do so ). Had the other boy not possessed such a round face and small physique, perhaps Dimitri would have mistaken him for a man far older than either of them. 

The archer finally raises his eyes to look at the other and Dimitri notes just how dim Ashe’s eyes look, all the light he so often sees within them extinguished. He wonders if the other is aware of it, wonders if this is how he really is under all that earnestness and idealism. 

“Ashe?” The air in the room seems to have gotten thinner in the last few moments. Dimitri finds himself holding his breath, anticipating whatever thing Ashe intends to say to him. Would this change everything between them? From this day forward, would he, too, think of Dimitri as some horrible monster? Dimitri can’t rule it out no matter how desperately he wishes he could. 

“You don’t have to hide part of yourself...at least not to me.”

Dimitri’s eyes widen. “What?”

“We all have done things that we’re not proud of. I know I do. But I don’t care about what you have to hide. Nothing you could do would change how I feel about you. I...” Ashe trails off, a faint shade of pink dusted across his freckled cheeks as he drops his head to the floor once more. 

Dimitri waits on bated breath for the other to continue speaking. But several moments pass and he never does. It’s been less than a minute since Ashe had last spoken and yet Dimitri already feels himself desperately hungry for the other’s voice, for his eyes to meet his once more. So he takes matters into his own hands...literally. He reaches out toward Ashe, gauntlet covered hands cupping the other boy’s cheek as Dimitri gently tilts his head upward to look at him. Instantly, he’s reminded of their encounter about three weeks ago when he’d held Ashe not unlike how he is now. 

Dimitri is not one to initiate touch with others, not since he was a boy. He is so often afraid that he’ll accidentally hurt someone with his insufferable strength. People are such fragile creatures and he fears for the day that he comes to break one  — yet he has never had this problem with Ashe; Ashe, who is arguably one of the most fragile looking members of his house. He wonders why that is. 

“Ashe.” Dimitri’s voice is low now, velvety soft as he sends a silent plea in his gaze in the other’s direction. 

Ashe flinches at the touch, eyes widening and face flushing as he’s made to look at the prince. He very quickly drops his eyes to the floor, but he doesn’t pull away. There’s a brief moment of tense silence. Then, with a quiet hesitance, Ashe speaks once more. 

“...Your Highness I-- I care about you a great deal. I meant what I said before about respect. But it’s more than that. You…” Ashe swallows and Dimitri finds himself strangely anxious. Almost like he’s waiting for something...but what? “You’re my friend and I don’t intend for that to change no matter what happens. But I would feel better knowing you didn’t feel like you had to hide things from me.” 

Dimitri feels a sudden heaviness in his chest. He feels...disappointed. But why would he feel disappointed? Ashe responded more positively than he could’ve hoped for and yet...something in the back of his mind tells him that’s not what he’d wanted to hear. But what did he want to hear? 

Unbidden, his mind wanders back to that day earlier this month. The letter Sylvain had brought him...it was undoubtedly written by Ashe. It didn’t take someone with incredible deduction skills to figure out the handwriting was his. They’re in class together every week for Goddess’ sake! Dimitri initially had not thought much of the letter. After all, despite what everyone else seemed to think, there was nothing explicitly romantic in the contents of the letter. 

And yet...Ashe had seemed so heartily embarrassed by the situation. When Dimitri had tried to help, the younger boy had behaved not unlike a skittish woodland creature. It had made Dimitri second guess the intent of the discarded letter; and more importantly, it had made him question whether he’d be accepting of that sort of advance. 

Not that he’d think ill of Ashe for something like that. He cannot possibly imagine holding something as harmless as a crush against the other. It’s not as if Ashe would ask for such feelings. In the several months that he’s known Ashe, he’s never been short of incredibly good natured and kind. Dimitri has never found his company unpleasant or uncomfortable, even in the worst of times. Truth be told, that cannot be said of many others. As Ashe had rightly said, they are friends and Dimitri is certain he could do worse than Ashe. But that doesn’t mean that he’s in love with Ashe or anything. Dimitri would know if he was wouldn’t he?

Dimitri doesn’t think about love very much. Not that he’s against it. He simply doesn’t have time for that sort of thing. He’s the heir to the throne, laden with all kinds of responsibilities, which isn’t even taking into account his own set of tasks he’s set for himself since his father was murdered. Perhaps in an alternate life, Dimitri could afford to pursue such things. If he wanted to, he could ride off into the sunset with anyone who’d have him. But he doesn’t want such things... _ he can’t want such things _ . 

Yet why does he find himself almost,  _ almost _ close to wanting something? Something he’d rather not acknowledge, lest he cross a line he can’t come back from. 

“Your Highness? Is everything okay?”

Dimitri blinks, his train of thought interrupted as he returns back into the present. He focuses his gaze on the boy before him. His hand still rests against Ashe’s cheek, the archer again looking up at him with wide concerned eyes. Dimitri quickly retracts his hand, cheeks growing slightly warm. How long had he lost his focus for? Perhaps he shouldn’t dwell on it. So he doesn’t...for now. 

Dimitri coughs. “Yes, erm...Yes, I’m fine. My apologies for worrying you, Ashe. I consider you my friend as well. Thank you for checking up on me.”

“You don’t have to thank me for that, Your Highness.” Ashe looks thoroughly embarrassed as he speaks, his flushed face resembling a ripe strawberry. “I want to help you in any way that I can. So if that means checking up on you at times like this, I’ll do it. I’ll do anything you ask. You have my word.” 

“…” Dimitri’s voice dies in his throat. He’s not sure what to say.  _ What is there to say _ ? That such gestures are unnecessary? He has said such things many times before to Ashe and to everyone else. Ashe has never listened and realistically Dimitri knows he never will. They are too similar, the pair of them. Similar to the point where Dimitri knows that Ashe’s statement is wholly and completely reciprocated. There is very little Dimitri would not do for his friends, the ones he holds closest to his heart. That sentiment extends to Ashe of course and has for almost as long as he has known the boy. 

Perhaps that is what he ought to say. Dimitri wants to say it. But the same thing resting in the back of his mind tells him he shouldn’t. It’s too honest, too raw. Ashe may have have that natural earnest and sincere demeanor but Dimitri does not. Dimitri strives to have that sort of thinking but no matter how hard he tries, he always seems to come up short. Maybe in the future he can be as forthright as someone like Ashe but here in this moment, Dimitri finds himself uncomfortable with bearing that level of honesty. 

So the prince does the exact opposite of being forthright and honest. He draws back, giving Ashe neither truth nor falsehood. “Thank you, Ashe,” Dimitri says stiffly, rising to his feet. “Though for tonight I merely ask that you return back to your room. It’s rather late and I don’t want to keep you up simply for my sake.”

For a brief moment there’s a flash of something that looks like hurt in Ashe’s expression. The sight makes Dimitri’s stomach twist painfully with regret, feeling like he’d kicked a puppy. He almost moves to backtrack his words when again Ashe’s expression shifts. The archer smiles, giving a short nod as he too rises from his seat before stepping towards the door. “Of course, Your Highness. Have a good rest of your night.”

“Goodnight.” Dimitri says softly, returning the other’s smile. 

Ashe nods again before quietly opening the door and exiting the room without another word. Dimitri watches as Ashe leaves, his small frame disappearing as the door shuts behind him. The silence and emptiness that follows the boy’s departure fills Dimitri’s lungs like poisonous gas, like smoke from a fire that should never have been lit. 

Dimitri holds a hand to his chest, frowning as he feels the rapid drumming of his heartbeat. Odd. Why would his heart be beating so fast? He hadn’t exerted himself nor been under any sort of stress. He exhales slowly, eyes falling to the desk chair that Ashe had just vacated. 

Silently Dimitri moves to place the chair back at his desk. His gaze lingers on the desk as he does so. Or more specifically he lingers on the small drawer on the left side of the desk. His heartbeat quickens once more. Once again Ashe’s letter enters Dimitri’s mind without prompting or invitation. Strange that he would be so stuck on such a thing. Sylvain had been correct before; Dimitri has received affectionate letters before. Incredibly detailed and personal letters have been in his possession more times than he can comprehend, letters far more explicitly romantic than Ashe’s was. It never was something he thought much of...at least until now that is. 

But why is that? Such a simple gesture shouldn’t faze him. Is it because it’s coming from a friend? Ashe is someone who knows Dimitri, knows him more than any of the others who’ve professed such profound feelings toward the prince. While Ashe has not known Dimitri very long he has seen a great deal of the darker sides of him that Dimitri would prefer to keep tucked away. As of today, Ashe has seen Dimitri at his worst, a side of him that others have rebuked him for. Yet Ashe showed no sign of coldness, his loyalty unwavering as he came to check on his prince.

Or does it have something to do with it being Ashe himself? Ashe who Dimitri had found himself holding a great deal of admiration for. This can be said of many people for many things and yet...Ashe has always felt different from the rest somehow. His bright and cheerful disposition was infectious, causing Dimitri to be drawn to him constantly. Like a moth to a flame Dimitri was pulled into Ashe’s light. But now he is aflame in the warm fires of Ashe’s heart, unable to do anything but burn into the ground. 

Dimitri moves to open the drawer. As expected the wrinkled piece of parchment lies at the top of the contents of the drawer. Against his better judgement the prince takes hold of the letter, lifting it out of the drawer before raising it up to his eye level. It’s not the first time he’s done this. In the weeks since receiving the letter, Dimitri has reread it more times than he can count. He has the words scribbled in messy handwriting practically memorized now. This again begs the question why he has such an attachment to this letter in particular. 

The thing lying in the back of his mind convulses wildly, desperately trying to reveal itself to Dimitri. The prince is at war with himself both longing for answers and refusing to be given them lest they be the ones he fears for. His eyes rove across the familiar handwriting once more. As he reads he feels a warmth rise in his face and chest. This feeling is paired with his heart again drumming swiftly in his chest. It’s a strange feeling but not outright unpleasant either. 

Dimitri is not reading the letter anymore but merely admiring the curly handwriting on the paper. Truthfully, it's one of the messiest penmanships he’s ever seen. But there’s something oddly endearing in that. He exhales softly, briefly holding the letter to his chest. And in the silence of the empty room the answer to his questions he’d been dreading makes itself known. But in the end he’d always had a feeling it would come to this, didn’t he?

It was as simple as luring a moth to a flame, as natural as a shadow cast against light. 

* * *

It’s not until Dimitri exits the building and walks outside that he realizes the room he’s been holed up in, is the back room of a church. The door he’s stepped out through leads back into the graveyard he’d slept in some time ago. Dimitri hasn’t the faintest idea how long it’s been since encountering the children in the graveyard. The sun is down so it’s at least been the span of a day’s time. Though frankly he has little care for things such as time these days. He is like a wild animal in that way, bound to no schedule and roaming, eating and sleeping whenever he pleases. 

Ashe’s letter lay clenched in Dimitri’s fist. Of all the things for him to keep with him since leaving the monastery this is perhaps the most peculiar one. Yet even in all his deliriousness and bloodthirst when he looks at the faded letters on the parchment Dimitri feels appeased somewhat. These kind words are not for him but to the boy prince whose body he now inhabits. Yet even so the letter remind him what he’s doing all this for, what he’s fighting tooth and nail for. Of course primarily his cause is in the name of those who died in Duscur, his father, his stepmother and Glenn. But he’s fighting for people like Ashe too isn’t he? Dimitri isn’t the only one who’s lost people, far from it. They’ve all lost people, Ashe included. Dimitri never knew what became of Ashe’s parents, assuming Ashe ever knew them to begin with. But it doesn’t matter; no one should have to suffer to lose people prematurely, no one should be orphaned before they reach adolescence, no one should be forced to bury their own father. 

Dimitri tightens his grip on the paper in his hand. Perhaps if he were a stronger man he would not be so immensely tied to the past. Or perhaps if he were a stronger man he’d be able to use that tie to end that murderess’ reign once and for all. At present he is able to do neither so he merely treads through the mud. 

Above him, an owl soars overhead. Dimitri notes that this owl appears different than the one he’d seen with the children a few minutes ago. This owl is larger, feathers a pale shade of beige as opposed to the dark brown of the other one. Dimitri’s eyes follow it, stopping when the creature lands itself on a low tree branch a little ways away. For a moment Dimitri simply watches the bird, an unbidden thought entering his mind as his boots sink deeper into the mud. 

The crumpled piece of paper feels heavy in his hand, as if he were holding the very weight of the world within it. Dimitri is tightly bound by the ropes of time, the chains of his past. At times it becomes so unbearable that he feels as if he’s been cut open by the unrelenting pressure of it all. But this particular bond does not cut through Dimitri the way that others do. While the ghosts of his father and stepmother pull him into the shadows, demanding for the blood of the wicked, the ghost of Ashe grounds Dimitri somewhat, reminding him of who he used to be and who he can become. 

Ashe is not dead. Well he’s not dead as far as Dimitri is aware. But he doesn’t have to be to rest in his mind or to be chained to his heart. Both can be said of the archer. Even now Dimitri finds himself clinging to Ashe’s memory as a shadow clings to the light. 

Dimitri approaches the owl, large hand reaching to grasp it. The owl evades his grip, flying upward off the branch and flying towards the man. The bird lands on Dimitri’s shoulder, it’s sharp talons digging into his shoulder. The owl moves to briskly nip at Dimitri’s ear, seemingly irritated of the man’s aggression. Dimitri grunts but makes no other response to the action despite his ear throbbing. 

Again Dimitri tightens his grip on the letter, the paper crumpling slightly in his hold. In the back of his mind he hears a soft voice. Hearing voices in not unusual for him. In fact he hears voices speak to him more often than not. But this voice is different, one that he has not heard since his days at Garreg Mach. 

_ “Your Highness, why did you go?” _

Dimitri frowns. “I had to go, Ashe. There is work that needs to be done. I have to kill that woman.”

_ “Did you forget about us? I thought you cared about us.”  _

“It’s...it’s not that simple.”

_ “Come back. Please, Dimitri...we need you.” _

“...”

_ “ _ **_I need you._ ** _ ” _

“Enough!” Dimitri cries out after a moment of silence, frightening the bird upon his shoulder. The owl ruffles its feathers indignantly before biting Dimitri again. Dimitri’s hands tremble. He has long grown accustomed to the voices that speak to him in the shadows. They do not bother him anymore. Yet still the new presence in his mind unsettles him more than he can possibly describe. There’s the sound of paper rustling as Dimitri’s fist finally closes over the letter. 

Ashe’s voice is gone now. All the voices are gone, the morning breeze the only sound around Dimitri. He does not know how to pacify the Ashe within his head. With the others Dimitri has been able to briefly silence them by carrying out his revenge. But Ashe doesn’t want that does he? Though in truth Dimitri doesn’t know what he wants just as he does not know how to satisfy his old friend. 

Dimitri abruptly stops walking, eyes falling to his hand at his side. He opens his fist, revealing the crumpled letter resting in his palm. With a surprising gentility he smooths the paper with his hands as he lifts it to his eye level. While Dimitri’s eye has been healed now it offers no aid to his sight as it once did. Therefore he can’t read the letter as easily as he once did. It’s no matter. Dimitri has each word memorized at this point. He needn’t read it over again.

Dimitri’s feelings for his former classmate have not faded since he left Garreg Mach. Of course they have been pushed aside in favor of his cause and his revenge. But they’re still there, buried deep in the depths of his heart. They rarely make themselves known these days save for moments like these. Though notably this particular resurface of his heart affects him more than any other has. 

Dimitri stares at the paper in silence, tensing up slightly as he feels an uncomfortable twist in his chest. His mind wanders back to another time he’d done this, a time over two years ago. Dimitri had only just understood his heart then. Not that it mattered considering how quick he was to push it aside. Perhaps if things had been different he could’ve told Ashe the truth, told him how he felt. 

But there is no ifs or buts anymore; this is the way things are, this is the way things have to be. Dimitri wouldn’t change how things are no matter how much he would like to. But...that doesn’t mean he can’t tell Ashe how he feels. He shifts his eyes to look at the owl upon his shoulder before dropping his gaze to look at the paper in his hands. 

Now Dimitri knows how to appease the Ashe in his mind. 

* * *

Dimitri can’t recall how long it’s been since he’s last left the cathedral. A week? A month? He doesn’t really care at this point. It’s been half a decade since Dimitri has entered it so perhaps he’s trying to make up for lost time. Not that he really needs to. He had never been a religious man even when he was the crown prince of the _Holy_ _Kingdom_ of Faerghus. He does not intend to start becoming one now either. The Goddess does not listen to his prayers. She never has. Like many of her other children she cast Dimitri aside into the firey pits of hell, into the scorching flames of Duscur. 

Dimitri is not holy and he hasn’t been for nearly a decade. If the Goddess wanted nothing to do with him when he was untarnished and saintly she will want nothing to do with him now, a blood soaked demon burrowing itself in her sacred home. But it does not matter whether or not the Goddess cares for him; Dimitri does not fear her, he doesn’t fear anything. Therefore he can take refuge in her sacred cathedral for as long as he likes. He won’t allow himself to be pushed around by anyone ever again, the Goddess included. 

The cathedral is strangely peaceful...well it’s as peaceful as any place can be. No one bothers him here save for the professor and his old friends. The clergy attend to their duties to the church, the rats keep to the rafters and Dimitri, the biggest rat of them all can be left alone to decompose in the back corner of the cathedral. 

Or so he thought.

In the distance he hears the sound of rapid scuffling accompanied by distressed murmurs. Dimitri pays no heed to it. Whatever issue there is the clergy men and women will take care of it. If worse comes to worst Dimitri will take matters into his own hands. He is no longer afraid of spilling the blood of those who deserve it. But for now he simply stands in solitude as the frantic voices accompanies the voices in his head.

That is until something forcefully rams into him from behind. 

Dimitri nearly falls over, the impact knocking the breath out of him. Anger bubbles in his stomach after the initial shock of the encounter. He’d intended not to get involved in whatever matter was going on but now he’s been left with no other alternative. Dimitri had made it clear he desired to be left alone. Those who are foolish enough to not heed his demands will face the consequences. 

Not that he intends to carry out any sort of consequence just yet. He may be a wicked monster but even monsters know what lines not to cross. For him that means not spilling blood unless it is necessary and deserved. While being assaulted in such a fashion is a great annoyance, Dimitri does not kill without cause. All he intends to do is startle and scare whatever person or thing thought it best to so violently bump into him.

However when he turns around and is faced with his attacker it is Dimitri who is startled. Before him stands a large bloodhound loudly panting and eagerly wagging it’s tail. Dimitri meets the creature’s gaze, his expression falling slightly as he notes the dog’s eyes-- or rather he notes the lack of one eye. 

Instinctively Dimitri raises a hand to touch his own injured eye, brows furrowing as the dog excitedly draws nearer. The action is bizarre to him quite frankly. Currently Dimitri has an appearance that has made children cry and grown men run in terror. How could something like a dog, a dog that is completely innocent and impossible to corrupt find someone like Dimitri approachable? He is a monster and the logical response towards him is to find him monstrous. Yet here is a creature who not only fails to cower in his presence but seem delighted to be around him.

Dimitri has never really spent time with dogs before. Not that he didn’t want to. Like most housepets, dogs are fairly fragile creatures. It has always been safer to stay away from things he could easily hurt. Growing up and breaking practically every object he touched was bad enough. He wouldn’t have been able to bear it if he’d unwittingly harmed an actual living, breathing thing. This mindset has reduced somewhat as time has passed. Yet still as he contemplates approaching the dog, Dimitri wonders still if he can be trusted to interact with animals. 

Though after a pause Dimitri eventually decides there’s little harm in simply petting the dog. She looks so expectant as she eagerly wags her tail at him. Contrary to what most would believe, Dimitri is not a heartless man, he never has been. War and grief made him this way, the fires of Duscur forging him into a bloodthirsty monster. But as the bloodhound enthusiastically leans into Dimitri’s lowered hand, he briefly wonders if that always has to be so. He doubts there will be anything he can do to redeem himself in the eyes of his people and to the Goddess. But if there are still those who can look at him like he’s something great, maybe there’s more hope for him than he thought. 

Dimitri decides to lower himself to the dog’s level, earning himself a slobbery kiss to his cheek. Initially he’s startled by such affection, having gone without for several years now. Admittedly it is not unpleasant, just surprising. Though it doesn’t take long for him to become accustomed to it as this dog in particular seems incredibly affectionate. For a moment Dimitri ponders on whether such unconditional love would have benefited him after losing his father. He thinks that might have. It might have done him a great deal of good to have some kind of company that wasn’t his friends or the staff caring for him in Fhirdiad. 

Not that they were poor company. Dimitri thinks that at the time he was fond of all of them, even Felix who had suddenly turned a cold shoulder and shut him out. But he thinks that a part of him felt empty after what happened in Duscur, an emptiness no person seemed to be able to fill. At some point he’d filled that emptiness with his desire for revenge and had been somewhat pacified. But as time has gone on he wonders if he’d put some kind of poison into the chasm of loneliness in his chest. These days it feels as if Dimitri has burned a deeper hole trying to keep it filled. He does not often question whether revenge is the correct path for him to take. But at times such as this and he feels something that could be mistaken for happiness, he wonders if he’s made the right choice. 

With a tender gentility that feels foreign to him, Dimitri scratches the dog’s floppy ears. He feels content strangely enough. He can’t remember the last time he’s felt that way before. He wonders how long he’ll be permitted to stay that way. Dimitri has known for some time that good things seldom last for him. But maybe he’ll try and enjoy this moment while it lasts. 

“You have seen sorrow as well,” Dimitri says quietly as he gets a better look at the dog’s missing eye. The hound tilts her head to the side slightly at the words. Her attentive gaze almost makes it feel like she understands him. Maybe she does. Even if the dog cannot understand Dimitri’s words, she still understands him to an extent. They share a mutual loss, a mutual pain. If Dimitri still believed in the Goddess or miracles, he’d wonder if this was some sort of divine intervention. Alas he believes in neither. But at least now he believes that maybe there is some hope for him after all. 

A sudden, familiar voice breaks Dimitri’s train of thought. The voice is fairly close and Dimitri stops to question how long the other had been there. He usually his keen awareness for others in his presence despite not acknowledging it these days.  The dog must have been a ploy to dull his observation skills with her sweet face and affectionate nature. Dimitri frowns, still resting his large armored hand atop the hound’s head. 

“There you are, Gildy! I’ve been worried si--” 

His new company suddenly stops speaking, apparently not aware of Dimitri’s presence until just now. The dog, Gildy responds to the voice immediately. Her excitement level doubles in mere seconds as she turns tail and abandons Dimitri for her apparent owner. 

“Your highness...I’m sorry I hadn’t meant to disturb--”

“I thought I made it clear not to call me by that anymore.”

The freckled face that faces Dimitri is twisted in confusion and something else Dimitri doesn’t care enough to analyse. Ashe looks like he wants he wants to say something but is quickly silenced when Gildy lunges head first into him. Ashe’s attention doesn’t leave his liege’s however even as he too is affronted with affectionate kisses. There’s a tenseness in the air around them as the pair of men lock gazes. 

Despite what one might think, being in the presence of Ashe is very different than the presence of the memory of Ashe. With the memories of the archer there were at least moments of fond nostalgia within the burden of guilt that threatens to resurface from the place in his chest where he’d buried it. With the real thing there is nothing but the guilt. Dimitri already carries the burdens of the dead on his shoulders. He does not need to carry those of the living as well. 

There are few people Dimitri would consider free from suspicion of being wicked. Dimitri himself is not free from that suspicion ( in fact he’s the number two suspect right after Edelgard ). However for as long as Dimitri has known Ashe, he has never given the slightest indicator that there was any sort of darkness within him. To the point where when he was younger he would ask himself whether or not the other were actually human and not some angel walking among them. As a man Dimitri knows better now. Angels do not exist. But he thinks Ashe might be the closest thing the world has to something divine and ethereal. 

But it is because of that divinity that Dimitri cannot stand to be in Ashe’s presence for too long. It is just as candle wax cannot be under the blazing sun for too long. Ashe is too bright, too radiant. Dimitri may have been able to stand in the other’s light when he was younger and less monstrous but those days are long gone. Even spending mere moments in the archer’s company makes him feel as if he might deteriorate. 

“I’m glad to know Gildy was in good hands. Thank you for taking care of her.”

Ashe speaks with a tenderness and softness that does not belong in a war torn world such as this one. It makes Dimitri sick to his stomach. How can anyone stand to still be so gentle and kind after all that has happened? The warmth of the other suffocates him, piercing his heart like the arrows Ashe so skillfully shot. That warmth had comforted Dimitri once, made him feel safe and at peace. It has the opposite effect now as Dimitri turns his back on Ashe.

Ashe speaks again, his voice quieter and more nervous “Dimitri…” 

The use of his name makes Dimitri straighten slightly. Ashe has rarely used Dimitri’s name when addressing him despite the prince’s multiple pleas to do so during their school days. The archer had always addressed Dimitri with his title, creating an unnecessary wall of formality between them. The Dimitri of five years ago would have been overjoyed from such an utterance from Ashe. However the Dimitri of today is mostly unaffected save for the ever so slight skip in his heartbeat. 

He can hear Ashe shuffling nervously behind him, the archer letting out a sigh before speaking again, “Dimitri, I want you to know...I’m- I’m glad that you’re back.” There’s an expectant pause following these words, Ashe staring pleadingly at the back of Dimitri’s head. “When you disappeared...it devastated me. For a while I didn’t know how to carry on. I looked for you. I didn’t want to believe you were gone. I--”

“Enough.” Dimitri’s voice is low and resembling a growl more than anything else. 

Ashe immediately stops, obediently closing his mouth as he stares at Dimitri wide eyed. Something akin to guilt twists in Dimitri’s gut. He doesn’t need to see Ashe’s expression to know that he’s hurt the other with the aggression in his tone. In the past Dimitri would rather do anything than upset those he would consider his friends. Now he does all to insure that he does just that. This stands true especially for people like Ashe who foolishly choose to trail behind him despite everything. 

Dimitri knows why Ashe is this way. After all he still has that crumpled letter hidden in a pocket under his cloak. Dimitri also knows that even now as he withers away in this dilapidated cathedral that his heart still beats so strongly for the other, that in a different timeline Dimitri would have done anything to stay by Ashe’s side. But in the timeline they’re in now it cannot be this way no matter how sure Dimitri is of his heart. 

“It’s nice to see you again,” Ashe says quietly. Dimitri feels himself nauseated at the other’s tone. Ashe sounds like a kicked puppy, evidently hurt by the unfamiliar coldness Dimitri has been displaying as of late. “Take care of yourself.” Ashe’s voice is growing fainter now, the sound of two sets of departing footsteps thudding against the marble floors of the cathedral. 

* * *

“You did the right thing, Dimitri. I think if Ashe had been left unattended for much longer than he was, he might not have made it.” 

“...”

“I’m sure Ashe will be wanting to give you his thanks once he wakes up.” 

Dimitri simply makes a single grunt in response. Mercedes does not comment on Dimitri’s silence nor on the silence he’s been giving since his return to Garreg Mach. The healer makes pensive sort of look at him but says nothing else as she continues to tend to Ashe’s wounds. Dimitri watches her silently, brows furrowing as he watches the color begin to resurface in his face. 

Despite all he does to remain unattached to everything outside his goal, moments like these remind Dimitri that he is still human, still weak. Try as he might to cut himself away from the friends that he made in the past, he is still weak. And he has his moment of weakness yesterday at Ailell. He could’ve just let Ashe die. It wouldn’t have made a difference to his life really. It would be just another person he’s had to lose, another voice in the chorus that plague his days and nights. 

But something about that moment; the way Ashe looked so helpless crumpled on the ground within the flames, it stirred something with Dimitri that he thought long since dead. He doesn’t like to think about it. The fires of Ailell felt too hot, too familiar. 

Dimitri has watched countless men die in front of him, even more have died at his hand. But the fire, the way it clinged to him and everyone else...it was impossible to keep his mind away from that day, that massacre. In that moment things like his goal and his desire to live until it’s achieved didn’t matter. All that mattered was the flames, the scorching hot flames and the dying man he was once in love with. Dimitri couldn’t do it. He couldn’t watch another person perish within the flames, especially not someone he loved...someone he loves.

Holding Ashe felt more natural to Dimitri than breathing, more familiar than his own face. Even now as he looks down at Ashe’s sleeping face, Dimitri is reminded of the last time he had carried the other into the infirmary. Despite everything that’s happened since then he remembers it like it was yesterday. He remembers the warmth of it all, the warmth of Ashe in his arms, the warmth of Dimitri’s cheeks when Ashe had wrapped his arms around his neck. Admittedly in this moment Dimitri feels a little warm now just thinking about it, his body betraying him with the faint pinkness rising to his cheeks. 

“Dimitri? Is everything okay? 

The question snaps Dimitri out of his nostalgic trance, overwhelmingly aware of the rapid tempo of his heartbeat. He instinctively twists his face into a scowl, trying to shake off the brief moment of humanity he displayed. Dimitri huffs, turning his face towards the window still scowling. 

“Focus on your current task, Mercedes,” he responds gruffly, the first words he has uttered to the healer since he’d entered the infirmary. 

“Your face looks flushed. Are you feeling feverish? I can find you some herbal remedies if you need--”

“I told you to focus.” 

Dimitri’s tone is harsher than it needs to be, harsher than it was a moment ago or any other time he’s spoken to Mercedes. Again something like guilt stirs in the pit of his stomach. He shakes it off, immediately moving away from Mercedes and her unconscious patient and towards the entrance into the hallway. Mercedes moves just as quickly, reaching his arm and grasping it gently. 

“Dimitri wait! Don’t you want to speak to Ashe when he wakes up?” 

The answer is not as simple as some might think; the answer is not as simple as Dimitri would let himself believe. Dimitri of five years ago wouldn’t have hesitated to stay at Ashe’s side until he awoke. In fact Dimitri of five years ago did exactly that. The Dimitri of today however would be more inclined to not be there altogether. It speaks volumes that he feels conflicted at all quite frankly. 

The last remains of the man Dimitri once was stir weakly every time a familiar freckled face appears in his line of vision. The feeling of warm nostalgia comes unbidden and undesired but it comes all the same. But just as everything that stands in Dimitri’s way, the feeling is crushed under his heel. 

Therefore Dimitri jerks away from Mercedes and proceeds to wordlessly exits the infirmary; therefore when Ashe comes to speak with him several weeks later Dimitri says the worst possible thing he could say in response to the gratitude the younger gives him, therefore when Dimitri’s chest twists painfully the next time he sees Ashe he forces himself to look away. 

Dimitri is a monster nothing more. Monsters are meant to kill and conquer, not to love. So love he shall neither have nor want no matter how tempting it appears. 

Or so he thought.

* * *

The air around him is warm, warmer than Dimitri is accustomed to for late spring. As a man of Faerghus he associates spring as simply a less brutal winter even when they are nearing summer. However in a place as far south as Garreg Mach that would not be the case. As they enter the first week of the Harpstring Moon Dimitri is reminded how far from home he really is, how much farther he still has left to go. 

There is little Dimitri can do to atone for the things he’s done, little that will redeem him in the eyes of his people and of himself. But that doesn’t mean he won’t try. He’ll do everything he can to earn the trust of the people of Faerghus. It’s his duty as their future king.

Therefore instead of training like he normally would, Dimitri is spending his Sunday instructing a group of orphans in defensive swordplay. In hindsight perhaps this is ill advised considering he’d been attacked by a group of children two days prior. But when has Dimitri ever cared about his own personal safety? 

A young girl maybe seven or eight enthusiastically starts tearing apart at one of the monastery training dummies. Her movements are admittedly clumsy as she swings the wooden training sword but her strength is undeniable. Dimitri smiles, stepping forward to put a gentle hand on the girl’s shoulder. 

“Excellent work, Agatha. However you will be much more effective if you adjust your form like so.”

The girl scrunches her face in concentration as Dimitri guides her to the proper stance before leading her arm towards the torn up dummy. When he pulls away she begins swinging with newfound vigor, her blonde pigtails nearly hitting Dimitri across the face. The ghost of a laugh falls from his lips, deciding to back away further and aid some of the other children. 

However unbeknownst to Dimitri another person had entered the training grounds. They move silently to sit on one of the walls at the edge of the training grounds. Dimitri is embarrassed to admit it but he failed to notice his new company until a familiar laugh reaches his ears. Startled Dimitri whips his head around to come face to face with them, a slight warmth rising to his cheeks as he looks at them with wide eyes. 

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to scare you,” Ashe says looking apologetic as well as slightly amused. 

Dimitri shakes his head, his face growing warmer. “There’s no need to apologize, Ashe. It was a mistake on my part not realizing your presence.” He pauses, taking a hesitant step closer to the shorter man. “Are we in your way? I should have considered other people wanting to train today.” 

“No it’s alright! I wouldn’t want to take away from these children’s training.” Ashe insists, a pigment appearing on his cheeks much to Dimitri’s bemusement. “---Actually I was looking for you.”

Oh. 

Now Dimitri is certainly feeling warm. 

Admittedly it all feels very strange returning to how things used to be. When Dimitri’s mind was trapped in the darkness it was easy to pretend he didn’t hold such affections for Ashe. Well, It was easier at least. He doesn’t think it was ever easy to remain contrary when it comes to the matters of his heart, not when they so violently make themselves known at moments such as these. 

Dimitri doesn’t know what to do with himself. He’d long since given up any hope that things could go back to the way they were before. Even if he could earn Ashe’s forgiveness, there was no possible chance that Ashe could still feel the way he did when they were students. Not when he’s seen Dimitri at his worst, his most monstrous. And who could ever love someone as loathsome as he? At some point Dimitri might have been considered an optimistic person to some but optimism at this length is bordering on naive foolishness. Dimitri is a fool there is no arguing that but at some point he has to fold his cards and accept that good things like that aren’t meant for people like him.

“Is that so?” Dimitri asks, hoping he sounds unaffected by the statement. “Is there something you needed from me?” 

Dimitri takes yet another step forward, his gaze earnestly meeting Ashe’s. The latter seems taken aback by the intensity of Dimitri’s gaze and immediately takes a step back. 

“N-no!...I mean yes. Well—“ To Dimitri’s surprise Ashe begins stammering, his face growing more flushed. “I just wanted to check on you.”

Dimitri furrows his brows. “Check on me?” 

“Yes!” Ashe replies, looking increasingly more embarrassed by the second. “You’ve been keeping to yourself lately and I thought with everything that happened at Gronder, you...you might have needed someone there for you.” 

Dimitri frowns, his chest feeling heavy at the statement. It’s true he’s been isolating himself. Even after he freed himself from his thirst for revenge he found himself keeping to himself whenever he could. He hadn’t necessarily done it to intentionally separate himself from his friends. He simply needed the time alone to process all that had happened. 

When he thinks of Gronder his heart aches. The events at Gronder do nothing but remind Dimitri of his shortcomings and his unforgivable actions. Rodrigue, the man who raised him, the man Dimitri considered a second father...he had died protecting him. Rodrigue had died because of Dimitri’s cruel and selfish actions. It’s not the first time this has happened either. How many people must die in his name before Dimitri is able to repay the dead? It’s all more than he can take. 

However despite everything a warmth settles in Dimitri’s chest at Ashe’s care and consideration for the prince’s wellbeing. Ashe has always been this way. To this day it amazes Dimitri how someone can be so warm and kind without expecting anything in return. It’s something he’s always admired in Ashe, something that admittedly made Dimitri fall in love with him. In fact here he stands completely besotted, falling deeper into this love. He doubts there’s anyway to free himself at this point. 

Dimitri feels eyes on him and turns to see about half a dozen of the children watching he and Ashe intently. Again Dimitri is overwhelmingly embarrassed, feeling as though this conversation was too intimate to have in front of his students. As a wave self consciousness overcomes him, Dimitri swiftly grasps Ashe’s hand and leads him toward the back room where they keep the training weapons. Right before they enter the room Dimitri calls back to the children. 

“Excellent work, everyone. Go take a short break! I’ll just be a moment!” With that Dimitri rushes them in, swiftly shutting the door behind them. 

“Your Highness...is everything alright?” 

A wave of warmth rushes through Dimitri’s face. He’s grateful for the darkness engulfing them as he’s certain his face is very red. It takes him a moment to realize he’s still holding Ashe’s hand. This of course only further mortifies him as he retracts his hand with a speed that would imply Ashe’s touch burned him ( In a way it does. ).

“I…” Dimitri begins, speaking with the air of a bashful schoolboy, “I thought it best to speak to you away from prying eyes.”

Ashe doesn’t speak, possibly making a nonverbal response that Dimitri is unable to see in the dimly lit room. Dimitri finds it difficult to breath, his heart pounding rapidly in his chest. Perhaps he should’ve found a less enclosed space to speak to Ashe. 

“I wanted to apologize for my behavior in the last few months.” 

Dimitri’s voice is quiet and tentative, unsure what exactly to say. Most would say it would be easier to move on and pretend that none of it ever happened. But just because something is easier doesn’t mean it’s the right thing to do. To not own up to one’s mistakes is an act of cowardice and Dimitri will never free himself from his own guilt if he does not make an effort to attone. And while he has made an apology to their group as a whole, Dimitri’s heart won’t rest until he’s expressed his regret to all of them individually. 

That’s why he’s here now in this very small dark room with the man he’s in love with. No other reason of course.

“Your Highness you don’t have to apologize.” 

“I do actually,” Dimitri replies, his words firm and insistent. “I don’t want you to dismiss my actions, Ashe. What I did was practically unforgivable.” 

Silence stretches between following Dimitri’s words. The prince feels himself growing tense witch each moment that passes. But after a pause he feels small hands reach for his resting at his side. Dimitri stiffens, eyes searching for Ashe in the dark. There’s the sound of soft shuffling and suddenly he can see an Ashe shaped shadow right before him. 

“You’re right,” Ashe says, his voice soft as he speaks with a matter of fact air. “What you did was awful. If I’m being honest it was horrifying to see you like that. But you’ve already apologized for all of this.” Ashe takes another step and Dimitri can practically feel the other’s breath on his neck. “You don’t need to keep apologizing just...show you’ve changed from your actions. That’s all I ask.” 

“Ashe I—“ Dimitri begins, unsure of what to say. However this hardly matters as Ashe continues to speak. 

“Do you remember that night? When I went to see you after Remire. Do you remember what I said to you?”

There’s a pause and Dimitri frowns, unconsciously squeezing Ashe’s hands in his own. He doesn’t speak despite remembering that night like it was yesterday. That was the night everything fell into place. Or to be more accurate, everything crashed together at his feet. Even now Dimitri is suffering from the aftershock of it all, of this love and of Ashe. 

Ashe speaks again, voice softer now as he returns the squeeze to Dimitri’s hands. “I told you nothing you could do would change how I feel about you.” 

The words are heavy as they leave Ashe’s lips, landing itself square at Dimitri’s chest. He feels winded, more flustered than he’s ever felt in his life. He feels his hands tremble slightly within Ashe’s grip. The whole experience is overwhelmingly uncomfortable and Dimitri is mildly contemplating running out of the room. But he doesn’t. Instead he waits with bated breath for Ashe to speak once more. 

“Your Highness— Oh to hell with it!” Ashe suddenly appears frustrated, his voice breaking slightly as he curses. “Dimitri, I meant what I said before. Please don’t let your past misdeeds hold you back for my sake or anyone else’s. Just...” 

Ashe takes one more step, the pair of men achingly close. Dimitri’s unable to move at all without risk of colliding into the shorter man. His heart drums loudly with the force of a demonic beast. Dimitri can feel Ashe’s warmth encircling him. 

For a moment Dimitri wonders if this is the moment. Will he at last be brave enough to voice his feelings? He told himself he wanted to spend his life living for himself. In that case shouldn’t he go after what he wants? Shouldn’t he take this chance with Ashe and tell him how he feels? 

Dimitri leans in toward Ashe, hoping that he can still find the other’s lips in the darkness. To his complete mortification, he does not. It is not their lips that collide when the pair meet in the middle, but their foreheads. Due to the slowness of their movements the impact causes neither pain nor surprise. 

Dimitri can feel Ashe’s breathing, insufferably aware of his own staggered breathing. Again there’s a silence. And then once again Ashe speaks, his voice soft and velvety, “Just do your best out there and I’ll be here at your side no matter the cost.” 

Dimitri wants to kiss him. He wants to kiss him more than he’s ever wanted to kiss someone. He could easily do it if he were so inclined. Dimitri considers it for a moment, contemplating the pros and cons of the action. If he were to be rejected he would undoubtedly be crushed, unable to look Ashe in the eye ever again. But if it did work out...Dimitri thinks he would happier than he’s been in years. And aren’t there some risks worth taking? Isn’t that what he’s doing this all for? The freedom to live and act on his own wishes. So Dimitri decides to take the leap, leaning in until his face just mere inches from Ashe’s.

But before he can do anything the door to the closet swings open, the sunlight suddenly pouring over them. 

“There you are! I was— Oh!” 

Sylvain stops mid sentence, noticing the closeness of their proximity. Sylvain’s expression quickly shifts from surprise to smug amusement, a small smirk stretching across his face. 

“Well...I can see I’m interrupting something,” he says, a teasing laugh on the tip of his tongue. “Just wanted to let you know we changed the time of the meeting tonight to after sundown. You kids have fun now.”

With that Sylvain shuts the door, enclosing Dimitri and Ashe in darkness once more. In his own embarrassment Dimitri hurriedly rushes out of the room, forcing himself not to look at Ashe as he departs. However if he had braved a glance at the archer he would have found the other’s freckled face to be a dark shade of crimson. In fact both their faces are entirely flushed when they return to the training grounds. Not that either of them are aware of this despite Ashe deciding to stay and watch the rest of Dimitri’s lesson as both have them have very pointedly made an effort not to look at each other for the rest of the day. 

It is foolish on both their parts to behave this way. But really was anyone expecting them to act any differently?

* * *

“Dimitri?”

“Yes, Ashe?”

“Why did you wait so long to tell me how you felt?” 

They have had this conversation before, several times actually. Practically every day since that day in Dimitri’s office several weeks ago. The answer has always been the same. The answer will always be the same. It wasn’t the right time nor was Dimitri in any state to give and receive any sort of love. Even now he still isn’t sure if he is. It’s a risk, one of the biggest risks he could possibly take. But all things have risk don’t they? What matters in the end is the reward for such risks. 

And truthfully, Dimitri doesn’t think anything feels more rewarding than this moment and being in the company of his beloved.

The pair are sitting under a large oak tree in a secluded courtyard within the castle walls. Ashe’s head lies in Dimitri’s lap, eyes closed as Dimitri gently runs his fingers through his silver hair. He feels at peace for the first time in how many years. Whether it be because the war has come to an end or because he’s reached a state of happiness he has not found in a near decade. It all feels too good to be true, like he’s in a wonderful dream that he never wants to wake up from. 

But he knows this is not a dream. Dimitri has not had dreams like this, dreams where he is happy since he was a child. For as long as he can remember only nightmares have filled his nights. As grim as that sounds that’s how Dimitri knows this is real. At last the King of Delusions has found comfort in reality instead. For in reality he has found refuge in a pair of arms that fit him perfectly more than anyone else’s, a star within the darkest sky to guide him back home. 

Though Dimitri isn’t quite the king of anything just yet, not until tomorrow. 

A breathy chuckle leaves Dimitri’s lips, hands brushing a strand of silver hair off of Ashe’s face. “You already know the answer to this, beloved.”

Ashe’s face scrunches up at the term of endearment, freckled cheeks turning a faint shade of pink. “I- I know that!” Ashe replies after a flustered pause. 

The corner of Dimitri’s lips threaten to turn upward in amusement. Ashe never fails to ruffle in embarrassment at even the slightest bit of affection. In Ashe’s defense Dimitri is also this way. The pair of them are both equally impossible in terms of receiving any sort of affection. Quite the match they make indeed. 

“I just have been thinking...” Ashe’s eyes flutter open, a pensive look in his eyes as he begins to sit up. “--This whole time, from the very beginning... _ you knew _ . You knew how I felt but you never said anything. We could have saved all this time if only I had known. I feel like we’ve wasted all this tim--”

Ashe’s statement is interrupted when Dimitri gently presses a finger to the other’s lips. The archer frowns, doe like green eyes looking at his future king in mixed awe and confusion. 

“Nothing was wasted, Ashe, none of it.” 

Ashe’s expression softens, one of his hands rising to take the hand Dimitri held up to his face. “I know. I just wish-- I just wish we could have been like this sooner. I spent so long telling myself to forget about you, that you were dead or that you could never feel the same way. If I had just known…”

“Ashe.” Dimitri’s voice is soft, practically inaudible if not for the closeness of their proximity. “I don’t think you knowing would have changed anything. What’s important is that we’re here now.” He gives Ashe’s hand a squeeze. “The years have been difficult, more gruesome than I like to think about. But I would not trade a moment of it if I would be assured the outcome would be this moment here with you.”

Ashe is silent for a moment, eyes looking rather watery as he meets Dimitri’s gaze. Ashe’s expression makes Dimitri think that perhaps the other is going to say something. But after a brief pause he simply lifts his free hand to cup Dimitri’s cheek before leaning in to give him a tender kiss. 

Dimitri responds almost immediately, gently pulling Ashe closer as he takes him in. He thinks back to their first kiss, that morning in his study. Ashe had never surprised him so much as he did that day. Truthfully no one had surprised Dimitri like that before. But Ashe had always been so timid and shy in his presence. Dimitri had known for some time that there was an edge behind his softness but it still knocked the wind out of him to have Ashe take charge like that. He kind of liked it. 

This kiss is less intense but sweeter than their first. It’s also much briefer as suddenly there’s the sound of someone clearing their throat. The noise startles both of them, the pair of them jerking away so violently that it hurts a little. 

When Dimitri turns to greet their new company he’s face with a smirking olive skinned teenage girl. Behind her is a boy looking to be around the same age as her with warm brown eyes. Dimitri thinks something about them feels familiar...but he can’t quite place it just yet. 

“So is this what you meant by ‘you’ve been busy’, Feathers?” the girl asks, tucking a lock of her dark curly hair behind her ear. 

“Feathers?” Dimitri asks, utterly bewildered. 

“Oh!” Ashe speaks for the first time since breaking apart from their kiss. “Feathers is me. It’s a nickname after I had an incident in a chicken coop when I was a kid. Sorry I should introduce you all. These are--”

“Glenn?” the boy pipes up, his brown eyes wide as he gapes at Dimitri.

Oh. Well that certainly explains the familiarity. 

“Glenn?” Ashe asks, looking between Dimitri and the boy.

“That’s Glenn, right Willow? He’s still got the eyepatch and everything!” 

“Eyepatch…?” Ashe is looking more confused with each passing moment. “Dimitri do you know these two?” 

Dimitri opens his mouth to speak but the boy gets there first. “Dimitri!? Like the King!? That Dimitri!?” 

“Oh my goddess, I punched the King of Faerghus,” mutters the girl, green eyes wide in horror. 

“You punched him!?” Ashe gasps, gaze shifting between her and Dimitri. “My sister punched you!? When did this happen?” 

“Your sister!?” 

Okay things are starting to clear up for Dimitri now. Though all things considering he’s surprised he hadn’t connected the dots sooner. He supposed he had been in a weakened state when he’d met these two. Though even with that in mind Dimitri always kept some sort of recollection of meeting these two. How could he not? The children had saved his life. Despite the chaos of the situation at hand Dimitri is overjoyed to have crossed paths with them again. He’d always wanted to find a way to repay them, even as he was trudging through that graveyard nearly four years ago now. Now he’s been saved the trouble of searching across the kingdom. 

“Yes, my sister,” Ashe answers, voice sounding strained as he attempts to keep his himself composed. “This is my sister Willow and my brother Hawthorne. I must’ve mentioned them before. But what I don’t understand is how you all know each other.”

Dimitri sighs, expression becoming grim. He knew at some point he would have to speak about that particular time in his life, especially with someone he was romantically involved with like Ashe. Admittedly Dimitri has been avoiding the subject, waiting for the right time to bring it up. Though now he’s reached the point where he doubts there will ever be a ‘right time’. 

Dimitri has long accepted that he cannot run from his past. Even if he tried it would be likely to follow him as it has for practically his whole life. When he was a boy he might have tried to pretend and hide from who he is and what he’s done. He knows better now. Therefore at this moment when Ashe asks of the encounter Dimitri had had with Willow and Hawthorne, he comes completely clean, sparing no gruesome or shameful detail. 

Ashe has stayed at Dimitri’s side longer than he would have expected. Through thick and thin he stayed, even at Dimitri’s worst...especially at Dimitri’s worst. At this point in their relationship Dimitri knows there’s little if anything he can do to be rid of his beloved. The knowledge of this comforts him despite his unwillingness to believe it for so long. Yet even so in the small chance the knowledge of Dimitri’s treatment of Ashe’s siblings several years ago causes the archer to leave his side, Dimitri would understand. 

But when all is said and done and the story is laid out before Ashe, he neither appears angry nor ashamed. The archer furrows his brows, slowly looking between his lover and his siblings who have now joined them to sit under the tree. 

“So all this time you three have known each other?”

“Yes,” Dimitri answers. There’s a warm smile on his face as he looks between Ashe and the two teenagers sitting beside him. “Ashe your brother and sister did me a great service when I neither asked for it nor deserved it. Had it not been for them I’m not sure I would be with you all today. I am in their debt just as I am in yours.” 

“The King...owing _us_ a debt?” Hawthorne murmurs, looking absolutely flabbergasted at such a concept. 

“Ooh! I want a castle!” exclaims Willow. 

“Willow! You can’t just ask for something like that!” Hawthorne cries. 

“Sure you can. I just did. I want a castle and a new pair of boots.” 

“Willow,” Ashe says quietly, a tone of authoritative warning that one might expect from a parent in his voice. 

Willow’s delighted grin immediately falls, her cheeks turning a faint shade of pink as she drops her gaze into her lap. “Sorry for my rudeness, Your Majesty.”

A warm rumbling laugh breaks from Dimitri’s chest, amused and endeared by the girl’s spirit. It’s a refreshing experience like none he’s never had before. He hopes this is just the first of many times he’ll get to witness such spunk from her. “There’s no need for that. Please just call me Dimitri.”

“Dimitri?!” Willow squeaks, looking horrified. “I can’t call you that! You’re the King! We’re supposed to use proper titles or else it’s like a mortal sin or something.” 

Dimitri laughs again. The response isn’t entirely unexpected but it is familiar. He’s instantly reminded of Ashe in their school days reacting similarly when Dimitri would request his title be discarded when addressing him. It took a great deal of time for the archer to do so. In fact he’d only started calling Dimitri by his name shortly before they began courting. Ashe’s sister seems a great deal less meek and proper than her older brother so hopefully the formalities will be dropped once the initial shock wears off. 

Dimitri rests his hands on his thighs, smiling as he tilts his head to get a better look at the girl. “Alright, Willow answer me this. When you and your brothers were in the care of Lord Lonato did you still address him by his title?”

Willow looks perplexed. “Well...no. But that’s different! He was part of our family. We lived with him and everything.” 

“I’m not so sure about that,” Dimitri replies, still smiling. 

“Huh?” Hawthorne chips in, looking confused. “What do you mean?”

Dimitri’s smile widens, excitement bubbling in his stomach. “I’m sure you two were wondering why I had sent a group royal knights to come and fetch you. I thought since your brother will be staying here with me from now on, it seemed most appropriate to have you both stay here as well.”

“You mean…?” Willow begins, looking as though she hasn’t quite grasped the situation yet. 

“It will take a bit of time to get you new boots but you both are free to consider this castle yours if you so wish it.” Dimitri coughs, his cheeks growing slightly warm as he prepares to make his next statement. He reaches for Ashe’s hand, squeezing it gently as he continues. “I would never ask you to consider me part of your family regardless of my relationship with Ashe. But you can if you’d like.” 

All three of the Duran children gape at Dimitri even Ashe who was wholly aware of Dimitri’s plan to have the children stay in Fhirdiad with them. Dimitri grows suddenly bashful, turning away from them as he squeezes Ashe’s hand again as a means of comforting himself. 

It is for that reason that Dimitri is the only one who notices the great big bloodhound that comes trampling toward them. Gildy moves with as much speed and chaos as she had when Dimitri had met her. Though this time there’s about half a dozen of royal guards desperately chasing after her. The guards prove ineffective however as the hound eventually finds her target, leaping atop Dimitri before gifting the man with a big slobbery kiss across the face. 

“Well, hello to you too,” Dimitri says warmly, affectionately scratching the dog’s floppy ears. Gildy responds with another lick to Dimitri’s face. The smile on his face is ear to ear as he basks in the pleasant company he keeps and the warm sunlight above them. 

For so long Dimitri was lost, trapped in a sea of darkness. He thought he would never find his way out. Yet here he is now in a light so bright he thinks he might go blind in his other eye. It is not his own deeds that attribute to that outcome. Any good deed he has ever done is significantly overshadowed by the deeds of greater men and women who have aided him on this path. Including the group sitting with him at this moment. From here onward Dimitri plans to be a man who deserves such generosity and kindness. As king he will do all he can to repay that kindness in full, starting with the ones who literally picked him from off the ground and kept him from dying. 

Ever since he was a child he spent his days mourning the loss of those he considered his family. Now as it’s been nearly ten years, he feels himself turning a new corner surrounded by a new family. His days in darkness are far from over. The nightmares that still haunt his nights are more than proof of that. But the dark days are briefer, the darkness now fading against the light that the blanket of stars overhead cast against it. 

Dimitri shuts his eyes, smiling blissfully as he again squeezes Ashe’s hand. With his free hand he brushes across the small pocket he’d had Mercedes sew into his cloak. Inside is Ashe’s letter he’s kept on him for over five years now along with a small hand carved wooden box. Though just as with every step he’s taken down this path that particular step will have to wait for the right time. But Dimitri doesn’t mind waiting a day or a hundred days. Having withstood more suffering than he can speak of, Dimitri has stepped out of it all a much more patient man than he ever would have expected. 

He’s waited five years to let Ashe know how he felt. Any more waiting at this point is nothing.   
  


**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading! I'm more easily accessible on [my twitter](https://twitter.com/lordlonato)! Feel free to talk to me there.


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